


Homemade

by wintercreek



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Community: contrelamontre, Juvenilia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-08
Updated: 2003-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-06 05:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercreek/pseuds/wintercreek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry can't remember Christmas with his parents, but he knows that he had one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homemade

Harry can't remember Christmas with his parents, but he knows that he had one. Christmas with the Dursleys was always a miserable time – not particularly worth remembering. Christmases with Ron and Hermione were always great, in their own way, and Harry was always grateful to have been adopted by Mrs. Weasley. But none of those Christmases were **real** to Harry.

_Children have Christmas in their own way,_ Harry thinks. _When you're a kid, Christmas is about what other people cook for you, what other people send to you. What your friends buy for you with carefully saved pocket money. It's something you receive._

This year, Harry wants Christmas to be something he gives. And he wants someone else to give it to him, not as an adult giving to a child, but as a gift between equals. At the moment, he's daring to believe that it might happen.

"Harry? Harry!"

One messy black head of hair snaps up, and Harry's eyes focus on his equal, for this Christmas at least. "Yes, Draco?"

"I said, would you please pass the silver curling ribbon?"

Harry picks up the ribbon and rises to cross the room.

"No! I mean, just throw it, would you? Your present isn't all wrapped yet." Draco is hidden behind a couch, only his head sticking up to talk to Harry.

Smiling, Harry throws the ribbon and sits back down. "You didn't have to get me anything, Draco."

Draco catches the ribbon and sinks back behind the couch in one smooth move. "I didn't get you _anything._ I got you something very special. Hey, what do you think of this for a present?" Silver ribbon wraps around a silver-gilt head and Draco's nimble fingers tie a bow on top.

Harry's smile has widened to a grin now. "What more could I ask for?" And as he asks himself yet again, _Why am I suddenly on fire?_ the answer comes to him: Draco is the perfect complement to Harry, cool green cunning to balance fiery red bravery. _I've found my match,_ he realizes, _and what could be a bigger turn on than that?_

~*~

The kitchen of their rented cottage is small, just like the rest of it. Harry melts butter in a pot on the stove, while Draco gets the marshmallows. _Fudge,_ thinks Harry.

"Here's most of them." Draco passes a bowl to Harry.

"Most of them?"

"I had a bit of trouble with the marshmallow that time forgot." Draco holds the bag up to show Harry the last marshmallow, smushed so deeply into the corner of the bag that Draco simply left it there.

Harry smiles again – he's doing a lot of that lately – and begins dropping marshmallows into the pot.

~*~

Christmas morning. Draco declares "Last present!" as he opens a package oh-so-neatly, carefully lifting the tape and, in the end, folding the paper nicely for reuse. Harry watches him, thinking about his own mad rush to open presents, ripping away the paper as though everything might disappear. And thinking, _I hope he likes it._

Draco holds up the small box and gives it an odd look for a moment, then opens it. Inside is a ring made of twisted gold and silver and set with a ruby and an emerald. "Thank you, Harry," he whispers.

Harry's eyes are misty as he reaches for his present. It's a small box, like the one he gave Draco, and suddenly Harry's not quite sure what to think. True to fashion, Harry shreds the paper; he hesitates, though, when it comes to opening the box. Lifting the lid almost cautiously, he finds a ring. It is the twin of Harry's gift to Draco.

"The jeweler gave me a funny look when I bought it … said something about it being a popular design. I didn't know, but I'm glad it worked out this way." Draco is being strangely timid and un-Malfoy-like.

"Left ring finger?"

Draco nods. "Is mine sized the same?"

Harry nods now, and slips his ring on.

Draco does the same, noticing quietly how it sits next to the large ring with the Malfoy crest. "We can't wear them openly, Harry."

"I know. Look under the lining in your box." As he speaks, Harry lifts up the lining in his own ring box.

Each finds the same thing there: a chain that will allow him to wear the ring as a pendant, hidden but always present. Harry's chain is gold and Draco's is silver. Neither boy speaks as both slide the rings off their fingers and on to the chains, then drop the chains over their heads.

"Well, that's the last of the presents. Oh, save one!" Draco jumps up suddenly, interrupting Harry's reflective mood. With a careless wave of his wand, the room is suddenly decorated in red and green. Silver and gold cover the tree in the corner. "Christmas was made for us, I think."

Harry looks around the room at the decorations. Gryffindor and Slytherin colors everywhere. And no one would ever say that the two clash.

"Maybe. But I like that we made our own Christmas. And I like even more that we shared it, gave it to each other."

Draco smiles softly at Harry.

And Harry thinks, _My first **real** Christmas._


End file.
